


Tales from the Twelve

by Saffiaan



Category: Jesus Christ Superstar - All Media Types
Genre: (Jesus and Judas need to get their shit together as always), Aromantic, Asexual Character, Few NSFW chaps, Multi, One Shot Collection, Queerplatonic Relationships, Trans Character, check notes, check notes for tw, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffiaan/pseuds/Saffiaan
Summary: A collection of one shots following the lives of the twelve (or well... some of them)Knowledge of the Holy Groupchat is pretty much required
Relationships: Apostle James/Simon Zealotes, Jesus Christ/Judas Iscariot, John/Matthew (Jesus Christ Superstar), Mary Magdalene/Peter (Jesus Christ Superstar)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 9
Collections: Holy Groupchat AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So since I'm still not sure what I want to do with the groupchat or A Perfect Mess, I've decided to start this. (Okay, I may have to admit that A Perfect Mess is just finished, but I'm having too much fun with it to do that) Either way, I'm just going to put one shots here of whatever I feel like writing. It's probably going to involve a lot of behind the scenes from the groupchat. I already have some things that I wrote a while ago and simply never published (like this chapter)
> 
> This chapter happened during Chapter 17 of the Holy Groupchat, after Simon was stabbed
> 
> TW: vomit

Removing a band-aid to check in on the wound and clean the area should not have been a big deal. James thought so and Simon had seemed to share his opinion. That was, until they had started removing the band-aid. One of the nurses, Roy, did say it was more stuck than they would have preferred to see it. This was confirmed by the obvious discomfort in Simon’s expression. James couldn’t imagine that having sensitive skin around a sensitive wound being pulled at would be fun.

But that’s when the spasms started.

The first one was small and barely noticeable. The only reason James noticed at all was because he happened to be looking at Simon and saw a flash of pain cross his face before he turned his head.

“Are you okay?” asked James, who had been standing a bit away to give the nurses some space but now got closer again. Before he had set two steps, Simon’s head violently jerked to the side again. And again. The nurses had seen this too, of course, and stopped removing the band-aid.

The spasms stopped as well, but after a few seconds Roy said: “We do really need to get this off.”

“Just get it over with,” said Simon, who despite his words, looked reluctant.

As soon as they continued removing the band-aid, Simon’s head jerked to the side again. Every time he even remotely looked ahead again, another spasm turned his head. After a few of these spasms, Simon seemed to have given up and simply held his head turned to the right on the pillow. Even so, James could see that Simon’s head was still being pulled farther to the right every few seconds. That combined with the look of pain that had permanently manifested itself on Simon’s face, made James want to tell the nurses to stop.

Of course he didn’t, but it was still more than a little frustrating to just have to stand by and be completely unable to do anything to help. All he could do was put his hand on Simon’s arm in an attempt to provide some minimal amount of comfort or reassurance.

The muscles under James’ hand were constantly rippling. With every spasm, Simon’s hand flexed open and closed, though it was clear he did this on purpose. After a few spasms, even Simon’s shoulder seemed to be joining in, albeit less violently. James used his free hand to push the shoulder against the bed, to minimise the range of motion.

Thanks to the stickiness of the band-aid, it took far too long to remove the damn thing. At least the wound looked good, according to Roy anyway, and they decided not to put on a new band-aid to prevent something similar from happening again.

“Are you okay?” James asked once the nurses had left.

“I’m fine,” Simon answered with a harsh tone in his voice, which was clearly a lie. A curt Simon was never a fine Simon. But the finality in his voice prevented James from pressing the matter. At least Simon seemed to be fine physically.

“Alright.” James took his place on the seat he had occupied ever since he had gotten there and opened the book he had been reading before the nurses had come in. Simon grabbed his phone to do who knows what. Violently texting, from the looks of it.

They continued like that in silence for a while until James noticed Simon started heaving. Yesterday, his lunch had come out within minutes of it going in and James had no doubt that was what was happening to Simon’s breakfast. After all, there had been a lot of throwing up in the past days. So he quickly grabbed one of the carton kidney dishes that were in the cupboard and gave it to Simon. Only just on time.

Simon’s shoulders were still shaking even after he had stopped vomiting. With a shock, James realised Simon was crying. Barely audible sobs could be heard now that the retching had stopped and everything else had gone quiet. From James’ point of view, he could just see tears dripping down Simon’s nose.

James carefully set the kidney dish aside in order to sit down on the bed and wrap his arms around Simon. Immediately, Simon buried himself in James. Almost as if he tried to disappear there. The sobs, though muffled, became much louder and Simon started shaking.

James, who had never dealt with a crying Simon before, simply tried to do his best in hiding Simon and calming him down. At first this just meant holding Simon as close as physically possible. When the sobs started to quiet down, James’ fingers started to draw random patterns on Simon’s shoulders.

Eventually, the sobbing stopped and Simon pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” asked James, who was well aware it wasn’t exactly the best question he could have asked, but he was also at a loss of what to do. Sadly he had yet to receive a step-by-step guide on how to deal with anything that had been happening.

“I fucking got stabbed cause I’m an idiot, I can’t move without pulling on the damn wound, apparently I have some sort of stupid spasm reaction to some band-aid pulling, I keep falling asleep, I’m in a fucking hospital and I can’t keep shit down. Take your pick,” Simon said, the harshness of his voice taking James back. They were quiet for a few seconds, after which Simon said: “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s okay,” James said, “you have a right to get frustrated.”

Despite the fact that Simon was avoiding looking directly at James, James could still see more tears gathering in his eyes.

“Thank you for being here,” Simon said quietly. He looked so small. James could never have even considered leaving him here alone.

“Of course.” James reached out to gently squeeze Simon’s shoulder. “Someone needs to pay attention to the things Dr. Bennett tells you.” This, at least, got a watery chuckle out of Simon. “How about I send everyone a text that they can amuse themselves for now, I get you something to drink so you can wash your breakfast away and then we’ll see how things go?”

Simon nodded. “Thanks.”

James gave his shoulder another squeeze, after which he slid off the bed to grab his phone and send a quick text to the groupchat. He put his phone back in his pocket and walked over to the sink to wet a washcloth, which he then gave to Simon. “Clean your mouth before you smear vomit on something other than my shirt.” James hadn’t even checked to see if there was vomit on his shirt, as he knew there was no way there wasn’t.

“At least now you’ll be forced to wash it. Something you have neglected to do for almost a week,” Simon said, still not with the usual cheer with which he usually would have delivered it.

James send him a half-hearted glare while filling a glass of water, which he also handed to Simon. “Since it’s your fault my shirt is now in need of a washing-” He ignored the pointed look Simon shot him. “-you won’t have any problems with me stealing your sweater.” He didn’t even wait for Simon to confirm this. He took off his shirt, throwing it over the now empty chair, and grabbed Simon’s sweater from where it was stuffed in the bedside table and pulled it on.

“You say that and yet I suddenly feel the temperature drop,” Simon said.

“Buddy, you have literally walked out in the snow wearing nothing but a t-shirt and claimed it wasn’t that bad,” James said, completely ignoring the fact that that had been for a bet. After all, Simon had done similar (if less extreme) things on multiple occasions. Being cold simply didn’t seem to exist in Simon’s world. Contrary to James, who hardly ever wore short sleeves unless it was properly hot.

“Well yes, but that was before a knife pierced my skin. I am a changed man now,” Simon said. James had crouched down to take his laptop out of his bag and raised to look at Simon. Simon still looked uncomfortable, even if he was wearing an easy grin.

“Uhuh, sure,” James said. “Scoot over. I’m several episodes behind on Modern Family and if I have to spend ten more minutes in that chair, I’m going to break my back.”

“Where better to break your back than in a hospital?” Simon asked even if he was already making room for James. James climbed on the bed next to him and turned on his laptop.

“How about nowhere and never?”

“Boring.” Simon stretched out his arms above him, his shoulders cracking at the movement, even as his face for a second twisted in pain.

“Come on,” James said, setting his laptop aside. The device would need a good couple of minutes to start up anyway. He lightly pressed Simon’s back so that Simon moved forward and James could sit cross-legged behind him, his knees touching Simon’s hips. He grabbed the pillow and gave it to Simon, giving him something to lean on without the need of more stomach muscles than absolutely necessary.

James helped Simon get his shirt off, preventing more pulling on the wound. He then started pushing his fingers in the muscle. Almost immediately, Simon relaxed under him, letting out a soft sigh. James would never be as good in giving massages as Mary, but he liked to think he came close. And by now he knew perfectly well which of Simon’s muscles would tense up and go stiff first, which made the process easier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place way before the events of the groupchat. Like. Almost a decade. Simon so far only knows Peter and Matthew, if that helps with placing this chronologically in your mind. (But also, chronological order is overrated) Anyway, I advice reading Perfect Mess before reading this, but it's not mandatory. If you haven't read it: Andrew is Matt's abusive asshole boyfriend. We don't like him here
> 
> TW: (mentions of) domestic abuse, vague implication of transphobia, serious insecurities

The front door slammed closed, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent apartment. Matthew picked himself up from the floor, only to fall down on the couch almost immediately. He cradled his arm close to his chest, pain shooting through him at the small movement. The tears that had been held back while Andrew had towered over him, mercilessly spilled over. Sobs wrecked through his body. He curled in on himself, pressing his face against the leather. The scent of Andrew’s musky cologne clung to the fabric and invaded his senses. It had been comforting once. That was long ago.

_Pathetic._

It took some time, but the sobs died down until there were just some soundless tears left on his cheeks. He rubbed them away, angry at himself for crying. At least he hadn’t tried to guilt trip Andrew with his tears. Again. He really needed to get a grip on himself. Here he was feeling sorry for himself when he knew all Andrew had ever done was look out for him and make sure he was safe.

Right?

He shook his head, rubbing away tears that didn’t stop coming, no matter how much he reprimanded himself for it. His arm, still held against his chest, had started throbbing painfully. He had to get it fixed somehow, before Andrew got home. His boyfriend was already stressed out from work. He did not need this on top of everything else.

And if Matthew was honest with himself, he was afraid of how mad Andrew would be if he got back and Matthew hadn’t fixed this himself. So, he had to do something. Find a way to get to the hospital. Somehow. He didn’t have a driver’s license and even if he did, there was no way he could drive with his arm. Even though he was tempted to try. He knew the basics. Andrew had let him drive in his car when Matthew had first moved in with him. However, Matthew doubted that Andrew would let him drive in it now.

With that off the table, Matthew was left with only one other option. He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his contact list, which only had two contacts in it. It was laughably pathetic. His thumb hovered over Simon’s contact. Maybe he shouldn’t bother someone else with his problems.

_Call me whenever you need something, alright?_

Matthew bit his lip, remembering Simon’s words and doubting them. There wasn’t anyone else he could call though. Nothing else he could do. He took a shuddering breath and called Simon, holding the phone against his ear more tightly than normal.

“Hey,” Simon answered, sounding like he had only just woken up. It _was_ early by Simon’s standards.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said immediately. “I didn’t realise you’d still be asleep. I can call back later.” He couldn’t, really, but he’d figure something else out.

“Don’t worry about it,” Simon said. “At least this way I’ll be doing something useful before noon.”

_Waste of time._

“Matthew?” Matthew hadn’t realised how long he had been silent, but it must have been too long if Simon was prodding him. “What do you need?”

“I… I think I broke my arm.” Matthew looked down at his arm, it’s painful throbbing the only thing motivating him to finish the sentence and not hang up immediately afer.

“Shit,” Simon muttered. Matthew could hear movement and he bit his lip at the thought that he had inconvenienced Simon. “Are you at home?”

“Yes,” Matthew answered. “But it’s fine, really. I’ll figure something out.”

“No need, I’m already on my way.” Matthew could in fact hear a car starting. He didn’t have it in him to tell Simon not to drive and call. “Are you alright otherwise?”

“Of course.” Even as he said it, he felt more tears forming. Falling down and getting stuck in his throat at the same time. There was no way Simon hadn’t heard it. “I mean… maybe not. I don’t know.”

“That’s alright,” Simon said, the calm tone in his voice at odds with the loud honking Matthew heard in the background. “Do you have any other injuries?”

“I don’t know,” Matthew whispered, feeling even more stupid. It was true though. He hadn’t moved from the couch to look at himself. Undoubtedly he looked like a mess. There had to be a bruise on his face from Andrew’s fist. Some more on his torso, probably. But he couldn’t feel any of them next to his arm.

“Alright, then I presume there’s no blood?”

“No, I don’t… I don’t think so.” He hadn’t seen any blood at least. And if there had been a serious wound, he should be more light headed. He knew the feeling well enough to recognise it by now.

“Good.” There sound of the car stopped. A door closed. Simon sounded like he was running or at the very least speed walking. “I’m here, can you open the door for me?”

Matthew nodded, even though Simon wouldn’t be able to see it. He stood up from the couch, carefully placing his shaking feet on the hardwood floor. With barely audible footsteps, he made his way to the front door.

Dents and scratches on the doorpost told many unpleasant stories that all ended with the door banging closed. They had never before featured broken bones though. First time for everything. His fingers trailed over the latest addition to the marks, before he shook his head and opened the door.

“Hey, come on,” Simon said, stepping past Matthew into the hall to grab his coat and shoes. Neither of which Matthew would have reminded to take with him. “Do you have your keys?” Or those. He shook his head and with his good hand, took the keys off their hook on the wall.

“Come on,” Simon said again when Matthew made no move to leave. Matthew nodded, but only stepped outside when Simon softly urged him to do so with a hand on his back. Fuck, why couldn’t he do anything by himself?

_Useless._

Once seated in Simon’s car, he curled up on the passenger’s seat, head leaning against the cool window. The soft seat covering was a welcome change from the leather of his couch. Andrew’s couch. Very little things in the apartment were really Matthew’s.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Simon asked softly, the concerned tone at odds with his normal behaviour, but it had become familiar to Matthew. He smiled a little despite himself, even as his stomach twisted in guilt.

“It isn’t important. I was being stupid. Broke a promise.”

“Doesn’t Andrew break promises all the time?” Simon asked, not unkindly. Matthew bit his lip, knowing it was true. Promises to not get angry. To come home on time. To never hurt Matthew again. Always that one. Made over and over again and broken just as often. Soothing words whispered in his hair, accompanied by a thousand apologies, only to be forgotten the next time Matthew screwed up.

_Ungrateful._

“He doesn’t mean to,” Matthew said, squeezing his eyes closed.

“Did you mean to break this one?”

Matthew shook his head. Of course he hadn’t meant to. He would never wilfully disappoint Andrew like that. His boyfriend already deserved a million times better than he got.

“Then there’s no difference,” Simon said. “You have forgiven him for countless broken promises. He should be able to forgive you for this one.”

“But you keep saying I shouldn’t forgive him.” It was an often-repeated argument that Mathew always choose to ignore. Except now, when a little voice told him Andrew shouldn’t forgive him. That he didn’t deserve that. That he needed to defend Andrew no matter what.

“That’s because his broken promises always end in you getting hurt,” Simon pointed out. “What promise did you break?”

Matthew started fiddling with the cuff of his jeans, eyes trained on the streets that kept flashing by. “There was this… this man that I knew from school. Philip. We ran into each other on the street. I didn’t mean to. Andrew didn’t… he didn’t like it when I told him. Made me promise not to talk to him again. He gets jealous. It makes sense, after all… after all he has done for me.” A small part of him told him that it didn’t make sense. That Andrew had no right being jealous. Not with how often he came home smelling of other people. Real men.

_Attention seeker._

“But I had already given Philip my pone number,” Matthew continued. “He called and… and Andrew picked up. He got so mad.” His fingers tightened in the fabric of his trousers. New tears welled up in his eyes. He didn’t want more tears. He tried to blink them away, unsuccessfully.

“Matthew, whatever he said, he lied. It isn’t your fault. Philip called you, not the other way around. Even if you had called, Andrew has no right to dictate who you talk to.” Simon reached over and softly squeezed Matthew’s knee. Matthew relaxed a little at the gesture.

_You can tell me anything._

“He wouldn’t approve of you,” Matthew offered with a weak smile. He had never told Andrew of Simon, of course. Simon wasn’t even in Matthew’s contact list under his own name. Matthew had him listed as his sister, whom he hadn’t spoken to in forever. He had told Andrew he had kept the contact for sentimental reasons. He had thrown up after telling the lie, but Andrew had bought it.

Simon snorted. “Good. I’d have to reconsider some life decisions if he did approve of me.”

“He approves of me,” Matthew quietly offered.

“No, he doesn’t.”

The words fell heavy between them. Deep down, Matthew knew they were true. They still sat uncomfortably in his mind. He curled up even tighter, despite the fact that they drove up in the hospital’s parking lot. Simon parked the car and stepped out. Reluctantly, Matthew uncurled and got out of the car himself.

They made their way to the entrance of the ER, Simon once again gently guiding Matthew by a hand between his shoulders. The smell of disinfectant and chemicals hit Matthew as soon as they stepped through the sliding glass doors. He was infinitely grateful for Simon’s presence. If only because he wouldn’t have known what to do once at the ER. Whereas Simon simply set Matthew down on a chair and went talking with the nurse behind the entrance as if it was daily practice.

After a few minutes, Simon walked back and sat down next to Matthew. “This is going to take a while, probably. I told them you got in a fight.”

Matthew’s head shot up. “With whom?” He didn’t want people to know. He told himself it’s because they wouldn’t understand. He knew it really was because he was afraid that they’d tell Andrew that Matthew was here. With someone else at that.

“Didn’t specify,” Simon said with a small shrug. “They know you came in with me and they know me by now. Pretty sure they’ve gotten tired of asking.”

“Oh.” Right, of course.

“Hey, I’ve got to call off someone. I’ll be right back, alright?” Simon looked at Matthew, clearly waiting for a confirmation. One that Matthew couldn’t give. He was still too busy processing the fact that Simon had to cancel an appointment because of him.

_Liability._

“No, you don’t have to do that,” Matthew said quickly. “I can handle things from here.”

“Of course you can, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I don’t want to take up your time.”

“You’re not. Hey, Matt, look at me.” Simon put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. Matthew looked up at him, finding only sincerity when Simon continued: “Your wellbeing is more important to me than the dick of a Russian businessman, okay?” Matthew slowly nodded, choosing to believe Simon despite the doubt nagging at his mind. Simon squeezed his shoulder before getting up, walking away while dialling some number.

Almost three hours later they stepped out of the hospital, Matthew’s arm now wrapped in a cast and held up by a sling. He slid back into Simon’s car, fingers tapping on his knee. The thought occurred to him that he couldn’t hide the cast from Andrew. It would be the cause for questions that Matthew didn’t know how to answer without mentioning Simon. And he couldn’t mention Simon.

Fuck, he should have thought this through. He should have just waited for Andrew to get back. Except Andrew would have gotten mad at having to take care of Matthew. Again. He should have walked then. Solved this by himself. But even Matthew realised that walking all the way to the hospital with a broken arm would be nothing short of ridiculous. There really hadn’t been a right way to go about this. Not according to Andrew anyway.

_Let me know when you change your mind about him._

“I don’t want to go back,” Matthew said softly. He half expected Simon to get angry or annoyed at the very least. To tell him that that wasn’t his problem and that he had had enough of Matthew for one day.

Simon did neither of those things. He simply nodded and said: “Then you don’t have to.” And drove away from the hospital. He sounded almost glad, though Matthew couldn’t figure out why.

After a short ride, they stopped in front of an unknown apartment building and got out of the car. Matthew looked up at the brown bricked building before following Simon inside. They walked up to the second floor, meeting some people on the way whom Simon greeted and from whom Matthew couldn’t help but shrink away. He couldn’t shake the feeling that every one of them could be Andrew. It seemed that now that Matthew had decided to leave, his fear for his boyfriend had suddenly multiplied.

Simon led Matthew into a small apartment with an assortment of mismatched pieces of furniture. It was entirely different from Andrew’s apartment though, which was strangely reassuring.

“Alright, shall I get your things?” Simon asked. Matthew turned around to look at him in confusion. “I assume you have stuff at Andrew’s place.”

“Not a lot,” Matthew said. He suddenly realised he hadn’t thought any of this through. Now that he did, fear caught in his throat and he wanted to tell Simon to take him back. To undo all of this and forget this crazy idea.

However, before he got the chance to do any of that, Simon was already talking. “That’s fine, easier for me. Just tell me what it is, where I can find it and give me the keys.” Somehow, he made it sound as though any of this was simple. Like Matthew hadn’t just thrown him in a complicated mess.

“Simon, I… I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Matthew said, avoiding Simon’s eyes. “I don’t have anywhere to stay. I don’t even have a decent job. This is a bad idea.”

_Coward._

“I have a spare mattress. Feel free to crash on my floor for however long you want. You can figure out practical shit like jobs later.”

“Really?” Matthew looked back up at Simon again. He had to be joking, right? No sane person would just let a customer stay at their place. Definitely not one as fucked up as Matthew.

“Yes. As long as you don’t mind that I do not adhere to a sleeping schedule whatsoever. Oh, and I have sworn off cooking. Though feel free to give it a try if you feel inclined to do so.”

Matthew looked at Simon in bewilderment. He couldn’t wrap his mind around any of this, but things were at least starting to settle in his mind. If only vaguely. Fuelled by an uncharacteristic burst of courage, he leaned forward and wrapped his good arm around Simon in a hug. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to have this end with Simon beating the living shit out of Andrew, as that would have been very satisfying, but for some reason this ending just... fit better. Instead of a sudden POV switch with violence. So I'm sorry for taking that away from you. But rest assured that Andrew walked away with several broken bones and colourful threats to not come anywhere near Matthew ever again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a reason CalamityCain and I refer to James and Simon as the horny teenagers. This is the reason XD. If you liked this chapter, thank CC because she's the only reason this thing was ever weritten and also the only reason I feel confident enough to post this XD  
> This takes place during chapter 35 of the Holy Groupchat
> 
> Warning: NSFW

It didn’t happen very often for Simon to wake up before James did, if only because most of the time he went to bed at ridiculous hours. This particular Friday, however, the unlikely had occurred and Simon had in fact already been awake for half an hour, with still no sign that suggested James would wake up anytime soon. At least, not without some intervention. Of course, Simon could take the normal route and simply prod James until he was awake, but that was boring.

Instead, he pushed away the covers from both of them, silently thanking the heat for forcing James to forego any clothes when sleeping. With his hand, Simon made quick work of hardening James’ member to the point that he could comfortably wrap his lips around it. He steadied himself with a hand on James’ hips, taking him as far as possible.

Soft breaths turning into pants and the occasional moans told Simon that James had woken up, which was only confirmed when he heard James mutter: “Fucking idiot.” Simon hummed around him, causing James’ hips to buck. Good thing that Simon was good at deepthroating. He let go of James and chuckled at the whine he heard in result. Edging James was, in Simon’s opinion, one of the easiest things to do. If only because he never even tried to persuade Simon to continue.

“Guilty as charged,” Simon said before he proceeded to kiss a trail up James’ inner thigh. “Though you never seem to mind.”

James chuckled. “Well, you make up for it.”

Simon made sure to avoid James’ balls on his way up and instead started to suck a hickey on his hip. He could just see James’ hands flexing and gripping the mattress cover. To add insult to injury, Simon softly blew over the tip of James’ dick, resulting in James saying: “Fuck, Simon, I swear-”

Simon sat up and for a few seconds just appreciated the sight of James being completely dishevelled. And that before breakfast. Simon grinned victoriously.

“Come on,” he said while grabbing James’ wrist to pull him up and out of bed. James let himself be pulled along, though not without a half-hearted glare, which Simon only replied to with a smile full of fake innocence. On their way he only just remembered to grab a condom from the bedside table. If they wanted to be completely safe without condoms, Simon would probably have to get himself tested every other week and though he did get tested regularly, there was a limit to how often he was willing to subject himself to the hassle of it.

Neither of them had enough patience to wait until the shower got hot and simply already got under it, messily making out while pulling at waists and hips. Simon pushed James against the wall, pressing his leg in between James’ legs and his tongue in James’ mouth. James grabbed at Simon’s ass, pulling him closer as if there was any space left between them.

Simon’s hands travelled from James’ waist to his hips in order to turn him with his stomach to the wall. He quickly prepped James before entering, pushing James even further against the wall, though based on his moans, he didn’t seem to mind one bit. Simon was panting hard against James’ shoulder, every now and then placing some sloppy kisses on the skin.

After they climaxed, Simon slumped against James to catch his breath before straightening up. “You know, while you’re here, you might just as well make use of the opportunity.”

James had turned around to lean with his back against the wall and said: “I fucking swear, one of these days-”

“I’ll be delighted to hear that sentence completed by the end of the day,” Simon said with a wink before getting out of the shower. He dried himself with as little effort as possible and dried his hair to some degree while making his way to the bedroom. There he grabbed the first pair of sweatpants he found, not thinking it was worth more effort than that. Since, if he had any say in it, they wouldn’t stay on long anyway.

He heard the notification sound come from his phone and had half a mind to just leave it, but decided against it and grabbed the device while making his way to the kitchen. There he grabbed the cereal box and began eating straight out of it while unlocking his phone.

**_John:_ ** _Any chance your definition of ‘small drinking problem' is nowhere near mine?_

Reading John’s message, Simon was secretly glad he had picked up his phone and not followed his first instinct to ignore it. Even if he was now left in the kitchen with his hair still mostly wet and wearing nothing but the sweatpants he had carelessly grabbed. They were James’, now that he bothered to take a second look at them.

More dry cereal than a person should eat and a couple of messages later, Simon heard James enter the kitchen behind him.

“Is it important?” James asked, though he was already wrapping an arm around Simon’s waist and trailing his fingers over Simon’s hip, which probably meant the answer wouldn’t matter too much. Which in all honesty was completely fine with Simon.

“Kind of,” was his vague answer while simultaneously typing out a reply to John. “John has come to the not-so-shocking revelation that he’s dating an alcoholic.”

“Damn.”

Simon shrugged. “Pretty sure he has already accepted it.”

“Well, in that case,” James said before starting to kiss down Simon’s jaw. His hands started kneading Simon’s hips, effectively drawing a soft string of curses from his lips. He had half a mind to just leave John to his own shit, but had enough self-restraint left not to do that. If only barely.

The struggle became even greater when James let one of his hands slip under the waistband of the sweatpants and started groping Simon. It definitely made concentrating on the conversation a lot harder. Which was why Simon was more than glad when it looked like John was done with it. He put down his phone, but this only resulted James to stop what he was doing.

“Weren’t you having a kind of important conversation?” he asked.

“I was, but it’s over,” Simon said, turning around to face James and realise James hadn’t even bothered to put on sweatpants. James gave him a dubious look, but didn’t protest when Simon ignored that and simply went in to kiss him. Simon grabbed James’ hips and almost immediately let his hands slip to grab James’ ass.

_Ping._

“I thought you said it was over,” James said while Simon glared at his phone.

“It was, this could be anyone.” It was true, but judging from James’ expression, he wasn’t having it. So Simon had no choice but to grab his phone and conclude that it was John again. “Or not.”

**_John:_ ** _Do you think it’s something I should know?_

Because Simon was typing his response, quick though it was, he hadn’t really noticed that James had sunk down to his knees until he was pulling down Simon’s sweatpants. Simon looked down at him, heat gathering in his stomach at the sight of James’ hungry eyes before he took Simon in his mouth. He wanted to fully appreciate the sight as well as the sensation, but sadly John had other ideas. Internally, Simon cursed him, even though John had no way of knowing what was going on.

Because it was still hard to think straight, typing out a response took more effort than it should have been, but Simon couldn’t claim to mind a lot when James was doing magic things with his tongue. Simon’s free hand settled in James’ hair, pulling at the dreads, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish with the action. Whatever it was, James nails scraped over the skin of Simon’s hips in a way that made him throw back his head and close his eyes.

Simon only opened them when his phone alerted him of a new message. He would be lying if he wasn’t in a hurry to finish the conversation. Luckily, within a couple of messages, the conversation seemed truly finished this time. He put away his phone and at James’ questioning glance he said: “He’s really done now.”

James grinned, as far as that was possible considering his position, and upped his pace to even more maddening than what he had been doing up until that point. Simon gasped and tightened his hold on the dreads, while his other hand grabbed the counter in an effort to keep himself upright.

Simon came without a warning, though to James’ credit, he swallowed everything with ease.

Simon fully leaned against the counter while he tried to catch his breath. James straightened up and didn’t bother to actually ask if they should move to the bedroom, but just shot Simon a questioning glance.

“Eat something, idiot,” Simon said while holding out the cereal to him. “Sperm isn’t breakfast.”

“And dry cereal is?” James said, even as he was already digging into the box.

“Yes, see? It says that it’s nutritious,” Simon said, pointing at the box that made more claims than simply being nutritious.

“And that calls me an idiot.”

“Correct.” Simon kicked off the sweatpants, which was easier and less redundant than putting the back on. Then he went to the fridge to grab the milk, which he also drank straight from the carton. Clearly this is the way one is supposed to eat their cereal.

Once they had both eaten and drunk something, they followed each other to the bedroom, where Simon wasted no time in pushing James on the bed and crawling on top of him. Their lips met with a hunger that suggested they hadn’t already made out several times that day. James’ hands settled in Simon’s hair, while Simon’s travelled over James’ sides, fingers dipping in the soft outlines of James’ muscles.

The need for air caused them to part, which Simon used as an opportunity to attack James’ neck with kisses and hickeys. He felt James shudder and melt underneath his hands. “Fuck.” Simon’s tongue slid over the curve of James’ neck. “Fuck.” James’ hands tightened in Simon’s hair, almost to the point of painful, though Simon didn’t mind one bit.

_Ping._

Both Simon and James glared at Simon's phone as if it had personally offended them, though admittedly neither of their glares had enough annoyance behind it to really convey that. Much less to someone who couldn’t see it.

With a soft sigh, Simon let go of James and rolled off of him. He sincerely regretted taking the device with him and not leaving it in the kitchen. Though Matthew’s message reminded him there had been a reason he had taken it.

**_Matthew:_ ** _Did you tell John about my shit?_

“You’re popular today,” James remarked.

“You say that as though it’s a novelty,” Simon said, while typing out a quick response.

“I think it’s best not to comment on that,” James said, which earned him a not-so-gentle slap on his shoulder from Simon’s free hand.

Part of Simon hoped that a few messages would be all it took to end the conversation. It was an irrational part, that was still with its head in James’ neck. A more rational part of him knew it might just take a while. The part also knew that this situation was a bit more important than getting laid for the third time.

“John?” James asked after a few seconds that had been mostly filled with soft pants and the sound of Simon’s fingers on his screen.

Simon shook his head. “Matthew.” Which basically boiled down to the same thing. Or at least the same situation, though if he were honest, Simon minded the conversation with Matthew less than the one with John. Maybe because this time he wasn’t distracted by someone giving him head.

**_Matthew:_ ** _Has anyone ever told you that you’re basically a horny teenager?_

A snort sounded next to Simon's head. It had, of course, come from James, who out of boredom had decided that draping himself half over Simon's back and shoulder to read the text messages was not an invasion of privacy. Of course, neither of them really had the word ‘privacy’ in their vocabulary. 

“He has a point,” James said, which was rich considering their current position. Or his actions earlier that day.

“I don’t hear you complain,” Simon remarked, looking back over his shoulder at James.

“Complaining is annoying,” James said with something that looked like a bad attempt at a shrug. “Although, if you’re gonna wait much longer, I may have to revisit that opinion.”

Simon chuckled, well aware that was an almost direct quote from himself, and tossed aside his phone. As much fun as annoying James would be, going in for round three was better. It wasn’t like Simon was very patient either.

James clearly considered the tossed aside phone as a permission to continue what they were doing and caught Simon’s lips in another messy make out session. It wasn’t the most comfortable position for Simon to be in, but with enough ease, he manoeuvred them so that James was under him again. Blindly, he reached to the bedside table to get a condom and lube.

With some reluctance, he sat up, effectively sitting on James’ stomach. Feeling James panting under him was enough to harden him even more than he already was. He was about to cover his own fingers in lube, but James grabbed the bottle before Simon even had the chance to open it. One of James’ hand settled on Simon’s hip, while the lube covered fingers of the other started prepping him.

“Shit,” Simon muttered, grabbing the wrist of the hand on his hip.

When James’ fingers slid out of him, Simon moved back to lower himself on James’ member. A movement that was accompanied by a soft string of curses from both of them. Once he was properly adjusted, which luckily didn’t take long, he started rolling his hips. An action that successfully pulled moans out of James’ mouth. Using the wrist he was still holding, Simon pulled James up in a seated position, the change resulting in a moan of his own.

James’ arms curled around Simon’s back, up his shoulder blades. His face disappeared in Simon’s neck. There he kissed, licked, sucked and bit the skin, all the way down to Simon’s chest. It was enough for Simon to practically lose his vision, the world fading away in sensations. He wrapped his arm around James’ head, both in an attempt to maintain some sort of balance and to keep him there.

One of James’ arms let go of Simon’s back to wrap a hand around his dick instead. The first touch was more than enough to pull a moan from Simon. James started to suck a hickey on Simon’s collarbone while his hand started a somewhat erratic rhythm. Simon’s hand tightened in the dreads.

“Fuck, Jem,” he breathed before coming over James’ hand. The hand that then settled on Simon’s hip, helping him maintain his already erratic rhythm. Simon was fairly sure that James arms were the only thing keeping up at this point. That was until James came himself.

James fell back on the bed, pulling Simon along with him. After a few minutes in which moving was simply not an option, Simon rolled off of him. He ran a hand through his hair while attempting to catch his breath.

“I demand a fucking nap break,” James said, sounding as out of breath as Simon felt.

“Weak,” Simon said, even though he would have demanded it himself if James hadn’t done it first. In fact, he already felt sleep pulling at him and made absolutely no attempt to fight it.

“Maybe, but sleep is good. Sue me.” There was the sound of rustling sheets, before Simon felt the blankets covering him. “Don’t freeze, idiot.”

“I’m too hot to freeze,” Simon mumbled.

“Sure you are.” Simon would have at the very least shoved James if he wasn’t already too close to sleep to consider such a thing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're kind of reaching the point where this fic just becomes 'tales of people who hang out with Simon' and I kind of don't mind that at all. Was that the intenion? No. Do I care? Also no
> 
> This is set during chapter 28 of the holy groupchat
> 
> Warning: NSFW

From the moment Judas had (quite literally) barged into Simon’s apartment, his fists had been flying. Raining down on Simon for the most part. That had been a while ago. Simon genuinely didn’t care as long as Judas stayed away from his stomach. Opening the wound wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it certainly would be the cause of more hassle than Simon could be bothered to deal with. At least Judas hadn’t reached the point of angry where he didn’t care about that. Not that he wasn’t close. In fact, Simon hadn’t seen him this livid in a while. If Simon didn’t know any better, he would almost think this as personal.

If Judas kept going for much longer, Simon might just take it personal anyway. Simply out of principle.

Just when Simon started to be serious about taking it personal, Judas stopped. They stood across form each other, both panting hard. Judas still looked absolutely pissed. For the most part anyway. The hard look in his eyes suggested a hidden but bone deep hurt.

“So,” Simon began after a couple of seconds, “any particular reason for this fit or did the mood just strike?” Judas shot him a glare, but otherwise didn’t reply. Fine by Simon. Judas had never been an easy talker anyway.

Simon lifted his shirt to check on the wound that slashed in an ugly red across his abdomen. It looked fine, thank fuck. “Could’ve sworn I felt a stitch pop.” He hadn’t, really, but the pulling that had accompanied jumping away from Judas only felt that much better. Presumably. Simon would have to actually pop a stitch to say that with absolute certainty.

“You better not. I don’t want you bleeding all over my car again,” Judas said with poorly feigned annoyance.

Simon let go of his shirt to dramatically place a hand on his chest. “Aww, you’d give me another ride to the hospital? My friend, you are too kind.” Judas huffed and rolled his eyes, muttering something about the increasing urgency of eradicating stupid idiots from his life. Simon merely winked at him and said: “You know you love me.” He jumped over his neon green couch to make his way to the kitchen, were he grabbed a bottle of Red Bull.

“You’re barely tolerable at the best of times and that’s as far as I’m willing to go,” Judas said. Despite his words, he followed Simon into the kitchen.

“And yet here you are.” Of course Judas could claim that anyone else actually had a life. A claim he had made on several previous occasions. He could point out that no one else was stupid enough to just accept a beating without an explanation. Undoubtedly true. However, it seemed he didn’t care enough to keep op pretences that actively.

“Trust me, I wish I wasn’t.” Judas reached over Simon for the liquor cabinet, not bothering Simon to step aside. Or demand, rather, as he didn’t tend to ask things like these. It really was added proof that the situation was properly fucked up. Proof Simon didn’t really need.

“I should start to charge you,” Simon remarked dryly when Judas grabbed a bottle of scotch and drank straight from it. Judas, of course, only rolled his eyes and took another swig.

Simon hoisted himself onto the counter, leaning back against the tiled wall behind it. He pulled up one of his legs, leaning on it with his arm. In silence he watched as Judas glared down everything around him (including Simon) while making a decent dent into the bottle.

Over the years, Simon had gotten pretty good at identifying when people got to the point where they were willing to talk. Compared to some other people, Judas was surprisingly easy to read on this aspect. Though maybe it helped that they had known each other for a while.

Once Judas’ glaring lessened and his stance became less rigid and more slumped, Simon asked: “So, what’s the occasion this time?” Judas send him yet another glare, but sighed and held out his phone. Simon grabbed the device, unlocked it and opened Judas’ private chat with Jesus. It had already been obvious that this had something to do with Jesus. It usually did.

_14:16_

**_Jesus:_ ** _Look, I don’t know how else to say this and I've tried to do so more times than I can count so I'll just have to say this in a way I do know how to_

**_Jesus:_ ** _I appreciate your efforts and your honesty. I believe everything you've said and I accept your apology_

**_Jesus:_ ** _However, I don’t think I can forgive you. At least not now. I will also definitely need some time before I can trust you again_

**_Jesus:_ ** _As for getting back together... it’s really not an option now and I honestly don’t know if it will ever be one again_

“Fuck, man.” Simon gave Judas his phone back. To be honest, Simon didn’t really believe that getting back together would never be an option again. If only because so far Jesus and Judas had always given up sooner or later. Besides, Jesus had a tendency to be far more dramatic than absolutely necessary. He didn’t voice any of this to Judas, though. Judas was unlikely to take his word for it.

“He needs to get off his high horse,” Judas said, without any real venom in his voice.

“I don’t know, he sounded pretty low to me,” Simon said, leaning with his chin on his knee. Judas glared at him again, clearly not appreciating Simon stating the obvious facts. He probably didn’t need anyone to tell him what he already knew to be true.

“And whose fault is that?”

“I know you want me to say it’s mine, but we both know that’s bullshit. I could say it’s yours, which is true, but you might just kill me for it. So how about we just blame Caiaphas? Win-win for everyone. Except for Caiaphas, but fuck that guy anyway.”

Judas gave him a long look before saying: “I fucking hate you.”

“Ah, what can I say?” Simon leaned back against the wall again, dropping his knee to the counter. “I’m irresistible like that.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Judas set the scotch down on the counter, closing in on Simon.

“I don’t make a habit out of it.” He had barely finished his sentence when Judas hit him across the face. Simon’s head made contact with the wall behind him, though not nearly hard enough to make him dizzy. Even more reason why it definitely wasn’t enough to stop him.

Judas grabbed his hair, pulling back his head and forcing Simon to look at him. Their faces were only inches removed from each other. A thrilling heat settled in Simon’s stomach. He could feel Judas’ hot breath on his face. He felt almost more than he heard Judas snarl: “Shut. Up.”

Simon grinned, about to make a remark, but Judas bit down on his neck and all that came out was: “Shit.” Judas grabbed Simon’s good side, pulling him closer to the edge of the counter. His fingers twisted into the fabric of Simon’s shirt. Simon honestly didn’t put it beyond Judas to simply rip off the shirt in his aggressiveness and impatience. “Hey, I like this shirt. Leave it in one piece.”

Unamused, Judas rolled his eyes, but he leaned back and let Simon pull off the garment himself. Once the shirt was discarded, Judas leaned forward again to bite on Simon’s collarbone. Simon sighed and closed his eyes, pain flowing seamlessly into pleasure. Judas definitely wasn’t careful nor did Simon want him to be. Simon leaned into Judas’ mouth, using the closer proximity to rub with his palm against the growing bulge in Judas’ trousers.

In retaliation, Judas bit down on Simon’s nipple. Hard. Simon moaned, arching his back and gripping onto Judas’ belt. Quiet pants pushed his chest up against Judas’ teeth every few seconds. His hands slid over to Judas’ buckle, to undo the belt and let his hand slide into Judas’ trousers, palming at his hardened member. Judas groaned against his skin. His hands gabbed Simon’s hips and pulled him off of the counter.

Almost as soon as his feet hit the ground, Simon dropped down on his knees. He unzipped Judas’ trousers, freeing his cock and taking it into his mouth. Judas immediately grabbed onto his hair, steadying him into place and fucking into his throat. Simon let him, running his tongue over the underside of Judas’ cock, relishing in the feeling of the tip brushing against the back of his throat. Judas moaned above him, his thrusts impatient and erratic. Simon rubbed at the arousal straining against his own trousers.

They both could easily have come right there if it wasn’t for the ringing of Simon’s doorbell. Judas glared at Simon, but let go of his hair anyway. Simon made sure to slid his tongue extra hard against Judas’ cock as he slid his mouth away, earning him another moan.

He stood up from the floor, not even considering making himself look halfway decent. His hard on wasn’t going anywhere anyway.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Mary standing on the other side. Though on second thought, they had texted about her coming over to drop off an ice pod for the hamsters. She had given him a time. He really shouldn’t be surprised.

Mary looked him up and down, disapproval clear on her face, undoubtedly because she knew Judas was the reason for Simon’s dishevelled state. Something which Simon choose to ignore. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And here I was thinking I wasn’t our type.”

Mary snorted and rolled her eyes. “You’re not.”

“I’m hurt.” Simon honestly didn’t even pretend to be offended. His mind was a little too preoccupied with other things for that.

For a second, it looked as if Mary was going to say something, but she stopped herself and instead held out an ice pod to Simon. He took the bright pink disk and tossed it on the small table in the hall, to be dealt with later. “I am most grateful for your generosity.”

“I’ll leave you to it, I suppose,” Mary said, a light frown on her face. Clearly, she still didn’t approve. Simon still didn’t care. He saluted her goodbye before closing the door on her retreating back.

He had set a grand total of three steps into the living room before he was pushed against the wall. Judas grabbed his wrists, pushing them against the wall above his head. Judas’ teeth scraped over the skin of Simon’s neck, causing Simon to roll his head back against the wall.

They didn’t make out anymore. They had never really done it in the first place. Only in the beginning, but even then it had been more teeth than lips. Simon didn’t care either way and he was fine without making out. Judas needed a way to convince himself he wasn’t cheating on Jesus. As if a making out session didn’t bleak in comparison to everything else they had done.

Judas’ free hand grabbed Simon’s hip, fingers pushing into skin. Simon could feel his muscles jump and ripple under Judas’ hand. The same way he could feel his quickened pulse where his wrists were pressed against each other.

Muttering curses and accusations that Simon didn’t really hear and definitely didn’t care about, Judas started grinding against him, pulling moans from Simon’s throat. Teeth and nails scraped over skin, undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake.

Judas moved a bit away from Simon, grabbing his upper arms and practically throwing him on the ground. The air got knocked out of Simon’s lungs and while he inhaled sharply to get it back, Judas crawled over him.

With strong impatience from both sides, they got rid of the remainder of clothing between them. Simon gestured vaguely to the coffee table. At least Judas got the cue, because he moved away and came back seconds later with lube and a condom. He moved to cover his fingers in lube, but Simon stopped him with a shake of his head. Something he would possibly come to regret within hours, but it would be worth it. Judas definitely didn’t need to be told twice. His aggression had lessened somewhat, but it was still far from gone.

After having coated his cock in a generous amount of lube, Judas grabbed Simon’s knees, spreading them and pushing them against his shoulders. Simon felt Judas slide into him, the slightly painful sensation completely blocking out his vision. His back arched up from the floor. A string of curses left his mouth, mixed with pants.

Once the sensation had died somewhat and he felt like he had adjusted, he wrapped his legs around Judas waist, pulling him closer. Judas took this as his cue to start thrusting into Simon, setting an almost brutal rhythm. He grunted above Simon, his dreads falling over his shoulders and tickling the skin on Simon’s stomach and chest. His hands wrapped around Simon’s wrists again, pushing them into the carpet.

Simon’s cock had started throbbing painfully between them, precum leaking onto his stomach. He was almost inclined to take the effort and regain control of his words to tell Judas to do something about it, when Judas did just that. One of his hands wrapped around Simon’s cock, stroking it aggressively and almost painfully. It took mere seconds before Simon came between them to the sound of soft moans and loud curses.

While Simon came down from his high, Judas continued to thrust into him, soon spilling into him with his own creative mixture of curses. He slid out of Simon almost immediately, dropping down on the floor next to him.

For a few seconds, neither said a word, letting their pants fill the silence between them. Until Judas sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling out his package of cigarettes and lighter. He stuck one of them between his lips, lighting it, after which he tossed both the package and the lighter aside.

“So, pizza?” Simon asked stretching out on the floor before sitting up just enough to grab his phone. He laid back down again, starting an order without waiting for Judas’ response. He replied to some of the messages in the groupchat while Judas considered the proposition.

“Fine,” he sighed, as if Simon had been nagging him about it for ages and not just asked once. Simon didn’t care and simply took it as the victory that it was. He held out his phone to Judas, who took the device from him. Meanwhile, Simon stole his cigarette and put it between his lips, inhaling the smoke and softly breathing it out.

Judas glared at him, but Simon simply gave him a sloppy shrug. “If I’m going to smell this for the next century, might just as well have smoked it myself.” Judas rolled his eyes, but didn’t try to reclaim the cigarette. Simon curled his free arm behind his head, putting the cigarette to his lips again. Smoke circled in the air above him, settling on his sweaty skin while he waited for Judas to select a pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little disclaimer that all of this was 100% consensual. These guys are comfortable and confident enough to tell each other when to stop. Does that mean it's particularly healthy to have a go at your friend cause your boyfriend broke up with you? Obviously not
> 
> Also the holy idea of naked people smoking is entirely borrowed from CalamityCain's fic (and this is the moment that people realise CC's contribution to this AU and these fics are at least 50%)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is like super short and I have no authority whatsoever to write this bu tI wanted to so here it is. I love these idiots more than I should, sue me
> 
> Warning: recreational drug use

The moment Simon stepped into the apartment, the unmistakably sweet scent of weed hit him with a comforting familiarity. He entered the living room and as he expected, saw James lounging onto the couch, a joint between his lips.

“Do I have a right to tell you it’s still before noon?” Simon asked, already knowing that he very much did not have that right, considering he had been out all night instead of sleeping. “Actually, I don’t care, I’m here to inform you it’s still before noon.”

“No,” James said, taking the join between his fingers and pointing them at Simon in an almost accusatory way. If only he was physically capable of looking accusatory, even when not high. “It’s past midnight for you and I’m just blending in.”

Simon chuckled. “Kind of you.”

“I _am_ kind.” James sounded like he had just experienced an entire revelation. He meaninglessly gestured around him, smoke following the joint as he brought it back to his lips.

It was true. James probably the kindest person Simon knew, though admittedly that was putting the bar low. Simon knew more people who could do with some kindness than those who had any left to spare. At least the first group was easy to exploit when necessary.

“Good, because in that case you won’t mind sharing.” Simon sat down on James’ lap, his knees on either side of James’ hips. He waited for James to inhale around the joint again before pressing their lips together. James exhaled the smoke into Simon’s mouth. The heat dragged down Simon’s throat, a pleasant sweetness settling on his tongue.

Simon breathed out. Tendrils of smoke escaped from between their lips, curling around Simon’s wrist from where he had raised his hand to cup James’ cheek. He draped his free arm over James’ shoulder, fingers curling against the back of his neck. James hummed against his lips, a vibration Simon felt flow from James’ chest into where his arms were leaning against it.

They kept kissing like that, slow and steady, occasionally breaking apart only long enough for James to take a new drag. A pleasant buzz settled in Simon’s veins. Time slowed down until every kiss seemed to last half an eternity. Simon didn’t mind one bit. It was an interesting change from the hectic night filled with strobe lights, sweaty bodies and base lines that he had just had.

A dissatisfied noise sounded from James. Simon leaned back a bit to look at him. James wasn’t looking at him but at his hand with grave disappointment. Simon slowly followed his gaze and saw that there was very little left of the joint. Immediately, Simon started laughing, slumping over James’ shoulder.

“I’m pretty sure the first one lasted longer,” James said, sounding immensely said as if he couldn’t roll a new one if he really wanted to.

“Ah, yes, sharing will do that, my friend,” Simon said, completely disregarding that it didn’t really work like that. He slid partially off of James’ lap, but his leg was still slung over James’. Simon really couldn’t be bothered to remove it. The limp was too heavy and he was too comfortable anyway, even if his other leg was squished underneath him.

James poked Simon in the chest. “Rude.”

“Accept your fate, my friend.”

“Hey, Si,” James said as if there had been a lengthy pause. Maybe there had been. Simon was aware that his sense of time was warped at best and so was James’, so no one could tell for sure. However, his next words suggested that James hadn’t experiences much of a pause: “If fate doesn’t go according to plan. And you plan the opposite of what you want. Does that mean fate goes the way you want it to?”

“Who says fate doesn’t go according to plan?” Simon asked, rolling his head from James’ shoulder to the backrest of the couch so he could look up at his friend.

“Everyone? No one? Me? Just now?” James didn’t look very certain that he had said that at all.

“Fair enough,” Simon said while he thought about the initial question. His hand fell down to James’ forearm, where he started tapping against the skin. “But if you plan for things to not go according to plan, doesn’t that mean things will go according to plan?”

“Wooow, too many words, buddy,” James said, immediately lapsing into a new laughing fit, indirectly shaking Simon as if he were a milkshake in the making. Of course, Simon could move away from where he was still slumped against James, but that would take effort. Besides, he liked leaning against other people when high. Something about other people being warm and his own body being too heavy to carry.

Once James had recovered (and several more seconds) he asked: “Okay so, according to which plan are things going to go?”

“The one that you didn’t want things to go according to.”

James squinted, looking like a man trying to figure out the world. Knowing him, that was probably true. Eventually he sighed and let his head fall back against the backrest. “This is too complicated. I’ll just continue not having a plan whatsoever.”

“I admire your metaphorical middle finger to fate. And your laziness.”

“Mostly that last one,” James chuckled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me way too long to write because of the unusual pairing but I had to write it. For obvious reasons. Also, we're back on the 'Fuck Andrew' show, please take your baseball bat on the way in. Don't forget to disinfect before returning, thanks
> 
> Warnings: NSFW, mentions of domestic abuse

“Do you want to hook up with me?” The question had left Matthew’s mouth before he could stop himself. He felt himself get red and looked away from Simon, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch. Admittedly, Matthew had been considering it for some time now. Ever since he had ended up making out with some guy in a club and pretty much fled the scene once the other guy got handsy. Even though Matthew’s own hands had already been under the guy’s shirt. It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened either.

“Not that I’m saying no,” Simon said as if Matthew had asked a completely normal question and not something utterly ridiculous. He tended to react to things like that, which Matthew appreciated about him. He continued the conversation as if they were talking about whether to order pizza for dinner. “But why?”

Oh, right. This should have been predictable, but Matthew had not actually considered how to word any of this. He had kind of hoped Simon wouldn’t care enough to ask, but of course that had been idle hope. He looked down at his wrist, where sat the leather bracelet he had gotten himself a few weeks prior. He started fiddling with it, like he was prone to do whenever he got nervous.

“It’s just… I mean, I… I want to. Of course.” He let out a silent chuckle, secretly hoping Simon would just stop him right there and then. Even with a denial if necessary. At this point, that was preferable to the embarrassment he currently experienced. Not to mention all the embarrassment that would follow, considering he was still living with Simon. He really should have thought this through, even if he had already done that about a thousand times.

He dug his fingers in the soft material of the couch, took a deep breath and forced himself to continue: “But… It’s just that I’m scared. After… you know, everything. And… and I don’t know anyone else who I can trust. Or that I trust.” The words kept falling out of his mouth at record speed. Fuck, this sounded horrible. Could he be any more obvious about guilt tripping Simon?

No. No, that’s not what he was doing. He kept fiddling with the bracelet as he tried to convince himself of that.

“Fair enough. Sure, sounds good to me.” Matthew looked up in surprise at Simon, who somehow still looked and sounded as if they were merely discussing dinner.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Of course, I don’t see why not. It’s not like I have anything to do for the rest of the evening anyway,” Simon said. Matthew could think of several reasons why not, none of which had to do with time, but he decided not to push his luck by voicing them. He just nodded to himself, wondering how to go from there, when Simon asked: “Do you want to do vaginal or anal?”

Matthew felt himself heat up right away again. He tried to process the question while also stammering out an answer, which didn’t work out. Part of his mind was still stumbling over the implication that he had a vagina. Something which, of course, he knew, but liked to forget about whenever possible. The other, bigger part, tried to figure out why Simon would ask the question in the first place.

Luckily, Simon picked up on Matthew’s struggles and explained: “Matt, I don’t know what triggers your dysphoria. Not unless you tell me.”

Matthew looked down at his hands. It was horrible, but Matthew couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Andrew had never bothered. Not even before they moved in together. He had just done whatever he felt like and Matthew had learned to enjoy it. For the most part. He knew what he preferred though.

“Anal,” he answered, somehow finding enough confidence to put in his voice. “But I need… I need clit stimulation.” He looked up again. Shame finally made way for a quiet excitement, though it left awkwardness in its wake. That was fine. Matthew could deal with awkward.

“We’ll see about that,” Simon said with a wink. Heat immediately pooled in Matthew’s stomach and he let out a nervous laugh. “Chest stuff?”

Subconsciously, Matthew wrapped an arm around his upper body. His fingers grazed over where he could feel the edge of his binder through the thin cotton of his shirt. He shook his head. “I want to keep my binder on.”

He expected Simon to tell him that he was in bad luck. That he shouldn’t make a fuss over nothing. That he was being ridiculous. That if he wanted to fuck half dressed like a whore he should do so outside.

Of course, Simon did none of those things. He simply nodded and asked: “Anything else I should know?”

Matthew shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Alright. Matt, you have to promise me that if I do something you don’t want me to do or if you want to stop altogether, you’ll tell me. Otherwise I’m not doing this.”

If Simon’s words hadn’t been enough to stop Matthew in his tracks, the seriousness in his voice would certainly have done the job. He tried to cover it, unsuccessfully, by asking: “Do you always talk this much before hooking up?”

“No,” Simon answered, “but I know you and if I don’t have this conversation now, you’ll just let me do whatever I want regardless of how it makes you feel and we’re not doing that.”

“But if you want it…,” Matthew whispered. His fingers moved on their own accord back to the bracelet.

“It doesn’t matter what I want if what I want makes you uncomfortable,” Simon said, his voice making it clear that this was non-negotiable. “That’s not how this shit works, Matt.”

“Oh.” Matthew supposed it made sense when put like that. He nodded. “Alright. I’ll tell you.” He hoped. He knew himself too well to promise it, but he also knew Simon well enough by now to know that he would listen. That he wasn’t lying about this. That had to count for something, right?

“Come on then,” Simon said, getting up from the couch and extending a hand to Matthew. Feeling the excitement bubble up again, accompanied by a fresh wave of nerves, Matthew took the hand. Simon pulled Matthew against him, wrapping his free arm around Matthew’s waist. They met in a kiss that showed the hunger which Simon had expertly hidden up until that point. It was still soft though, surprisingly so.

Simon placed Matthew’s hand on his waist. A good thing too, or Matthew might never have touched him. Unsurprisingly, things like these were easier when at least half drunk. Matthew wasn’t anywhere near that. The empty beer bottle on the table was Simon’s and Matthew hadn’t had a drop of it. Sadly.

Though any regrets Matthew might have had, disappeared when Simon slid his tongue over Matthew’s lips. Matthew willingly opened his mouth to allow Simon access. He wrapped his free arm around Simon, digging his fingers in his shirt. He felt Simon chuckle against him, but it wasn’t condescending, like Andrew’s chuckles had always been, but simply amused, even appreciative. He started tugging at Matthew, hooking his fingers behind the belt loops of Matthew’s jeans.

They stumbled into Simon’s bedroom. Matthew practically fell onto the bed, pulling Simon along with him. He let out a soft chuckle, most nerves flowing away with it. Simon crawled on top of him, running his fingers over Matthew’s sides. Even through the fabric of his shirt, Simon’s fingers left electricity in their wake, making Matthew’s skin tingle. Even more so when they slipped under the shirt.

“Can I take this off?” Simon asked, a rough edge to his voice, but not a trace of impatience or pretence. Matthew looked up for a second, surprised at the question, but he let his head fall back against the sheets and nodded.

Simon started pushing up Matthew’s shirt, pressing kisses to the inches of skin that revealed themselves as he did so. But, as promised, he stopped when he reached the edge of Matthew’s binder. Matthew lifted off of the bed just enough to allow for Simon to remove the shirt entirely.

Simon’s fingers trailing over Matthew’s skin were like a touch of magic. Somehow he defined only the parts of Matthew’s body that Matthew liked. He kneaded muscles that Matthew didn’t even know he had. His fingers dipped between these new-found muscles. Matthew felt himself relax under Simon’s touch. Even if a small part of his mind that reminded him that he could count on two hands the amount of times that Andrew had bothered to take the time for anything like this.

After shooting a questioning look, which Matthew responded to with a short nod, Simon got rid of Matthew’s trousers. Matthew felt Simon suck a hickey just below his ribs. A small gasp escaped his lips. A hot blush crept up his cheeks, but luckily Simon didn’t comment it. Instead, he sucked another hickey just below the first one. Matthew sighed. The heat steadily gathering between his legs became harder to ignore with every passing second.

Subconsciously, he spread his legs. It attracted Simon’s attention, who moved a hand down to rub at Matthew’s clit through the fabric of his boxers. Matthew bucked his hip and pressed his head in the sheets. He felt Simon’s lips on his neck, mouthing at the skin and sucking at his pulse point. Matthew’s hands moved up to grab at Simon’s shirt again, tugging at the fabric.

When Simon’s hand moved away from Matthew’s crotch, Matthew let out a soft whine. He felt himself heat up at the sound that spilled from his own lips. Even more so when Simon slid his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and his hips bucked again in reaction.

“This okay?” Simon whispered against the skin of Matthew’s neck.

“Y-yeah,” Matthew said, his voice much raspier than he had expected.

Simon moved down to remove Matthew’s underwear, while somehow continuously sucking on the skin on Matthew’s hipbone. The cool air hitting Matthew’s sex added to the heat steadily gathering in the pit of his stomach. He was vaguely aware that he was squirming a bit, but he didn’t really care anymore. Especially not when he saw Simon take off his shirt.

That was, until Simon moved down and suddenly Matthew felt Simon’s tongue over his sex. It felt amazing, sparks running through Matthew’s body and sparkling behind his eyes. However, all that was completely drowned out by an overwhelming sense of guilt. He automatically drew his legs closer to himself. “Wait.” His voice was shaky and soft, but he hadn’t needed to say anything anyway as Simon had already drawn back.

“You don’t… you don’t have to do that,” Matthew said. He only vaguely noticed he had sat up and pressed his knees to his chest. He also didn’t know if the increased distance between him and Simon was due to him moving back, Simon moving back or both. He was too preoccupied with feeling guilty for interrupting Simon, feeling guilty for letting him do that in the first place and feeling ungrateful.

“Matthew,” Simon said, his voice clear, despite his soft pants, “do you not want me to or do you think I don’t want to?” He sounded surprisingly non-judgemental, though Matthew wasn’t sure if that was hopeful thinking. Probably.

“The… latter?” Matthew realised he sounded doubtful at best, but he couldn’t help but feel there was no right answer to Simon’s question. He already braced himself for the inevitable shouting that would soon follow. Clearly the best-case scenario from here on out was Simon storming out and leaving Matthew alone. Matthew didn’t really want to consider the worst case.

“Why would I do something I don’t want to do?” Simon asked, somehow still not sounding annoyed or impatient.

Matthew shrugged. Admittedly, it didn’t make sense for Simon to do something he didn’t want to when he was clearly in control of the situation. But Matthew couldn’t comprehend why Simon would want to. Andrew had told him time and time again that it was gross and degrading at the best of times.

“Matt, trust me, eating people out is probably my favourite thing to do. Not just sexually, but generally,” Simon said. Matthew looked up in surprise and found Simon looking at him with complete sincerity, albeit with an amused tilt to his lips. “Well, maybe second favourite thing, but only because giving blowjobs is such a strong contender.”

A soft chuckle forced itself past Matthew’s lips. “I thought your favourite thing to do was eating weird pizzas.”

“That one holds a solid third place. Setting shit on fire is fourth.”

Admittedly, Matthew didn’t really get it, but then again, he had only ever gone down on Andrew. Which he hadn’t been a fan of, but by now he also knew that wasn’t necessarily representative. Either way, he was willing to believe that Simon was telling the truth. So he whispered: “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, there’s nothing wrong with watching out for other people,” Simon said with a shrug. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the interruption, however unlikely that seemed to Matthew. “You okay?”

Matthew nodded.

“Do you want me to continue?”

Matthew nodded again, though this time he was sure his neck and face turned red. He had no time to linger on that, because Simon started kissing him again. Matthew’s legs were pressed against Simon’s bare chest. He moved them so his knees fell open and Simon could press closer against him. Something about their flat chests brushing against each other send a warm and almost giddy wave through Matthew’s body.

With surprising gentility, Simon pushed Matthew down again. Matthew let him, chuckling softly when Simon shot him a grin and a wink before disappearing between his legs. The chuckle turned into a moan when he felt Simon’s tongue brush over his sex again.

The slick sounds that accompanied everything Simon did would have made Matthew blush if any part of him could still be bothered with trivial things like dignity and embarrassment. As it was, Simon’s tongue chased away any thoughts that might have sprung into his mind. Besides, most of the sounds were drowned out by Matthew’s moans, which grew increasingly loud as he neared his climax. Until he came with loud cries, his body shaking with every wave that washed over him.

As he came down from his height, panting loudly, he heard some movement. Only then did he realise he had screwed his eyes shut. He opened them and saw that Simon had undressed himself. The sight of his erection was enough to send a new wave of heat to Matthew’s stomach. He let out a soft whine, causing Simon to grin.

As soon as Simon crawled on top of Matthew, he grabbed onto Simon’s waist, lightly pulling him closer. Anything to get some contact. Simon’s cock brushed against Matthew’s stomach. He moaned and pushed up his hips in response. While sucking on Matthew’s collarbone, Simon shoved a pillow under Matthew’s lower back. Matthew relaxed against the soft fabric, even if the position was slightly uncomfortable.

Simon reached for something next to Matthew. He turned his head to see it was a bottle of lube and a condom. Excitement made way to allow some nervousness back in, causing Matthew’s heart to hammer in his chest. More than that though, he felt heat pooling between his legs. Simon prepped him with surprising thoroughness. Matthew vaguely wondered where he got the patience from.

Any wondering was driven out when Simon slid into him. Matthew had braced himself for the initial sting, but it never came. Instead there was familiar pleasure. Nerves left as soon as they had come. Matthew blindly tugged at Simon, urging him to move, to chase that pleasure. Not a very clear message, but Simon got the hint anyway and set a steady rhythm. His hands trailed over Matthew’s torso and hips. Lips, tongue and sometimes teeth followed the touch, pulling moans from Matthew’s throat.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Matthew knew his nails were digging into Simon’s skin. But Simon hadn’t said anything about it and so Matthew didn’t make an effort to stop. Especially not when he felt Simon’s fingers brush over his clit. He gasped, immediately followed by a moan.

Soon enough, Matthew was steadily guided to the edge he had only just returned from. His breaths came out in gasps, pants and moans. Sounds mirrored in lesser quantities by Simon. When Matthew came, he wrapped his legs around Simon to keep him close.

Through his pleasure filled haze, he noticed Simon coming inside him with soft moans. He was slightly more aware of Simon sliding out of him, if only because he immediately missed the sensation of being filled.

Once Matthew felt like moving, he curled on his side to look at Simon, who was laying on his stomach next to him.

“Hey, you good?” Simon asked. It was almost unfair that he was barely panting while Matthew was still out of breath.

Matthew nodded. “Yes. Thanks.”

“You sound as though I was doing you a favour,” Simon said dryly.

“Well… you were,” Matthew said, picking at the sheets. “Right?”

“Yes, because I absolutely hate sex and you’re not hot at all.” Matthew was fairly sure he had never heard Simon this sarcastic before. Unless, of course, he wasn’t being sarcastic. Except Matthew knew the first part to be untrue, so it had to be sarcasm.

Apparently, Simon had caught up on Matthew’s inner debate, because he said: “You’re hot, accept the facts.”

A brand-new blush worked its way up Matthew’s cheeks. “Thanks.”

Simon winked at him, causing Matthew to chuckle, before getting up and walking to the bathroom. Soon enough, the sound of the shower running could be heard. Matthew waited on the bed, throwing the edge of the sheets over himself to keep warm. For once he didn’t care that they weren’t his sheets.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the story of how Simon and Jesus met (because, once again, this accidentaly became tales of people who hang out with Simon Zealotes XD) It happens about 3 to 4 years before the events of the groupchat. Simon at this point only knows Peter, Matt and Judas (I think... the timeline of this AU is a bit shaky and I don't want to talk about it). Jesus knows Mary, James and John
> 
> TW: assault, violence, mentions of past abuse, Andrew (yes, he is his own warning now)

To his own surprise, Jesus was quite pleased at how his date was turning out. He had had a handful of dates via tinder so far, but none of those had worked out incredibly well. Definitely not well enough to make Jesus consider a second date, something he could see happening now.

Andrew was simply better than he had appeared over text. He was handsome, charismatic, funny, patient and unafraid to take charge. Which worked perfect with Jesus’ more tentative stance. He also showed the necessary insight, as he admitted to making mistakes in a previous relationship. (Though, judging by the sound of it, Jesus thought Andrew’s ex was more to blame for the entire situation.) On top of all that, Andrew had paid for dinner. Something which, though unnecessary, did prove of a certain level of chivalry that Jesus appreciated.

Which is why, when Andrew suggested they go to a club after dinner, Jesus didn’t object, even though he wasn’t a huge fan of clubs. He also didn’t mind too much when Andrew slung an arm around his shoulders on the way to the club.

Something he had a little more objection to was when Andrew started kissing him after a couple of shots. Jesus could smell the alcohol on his breath. He drew away and tried to reason with Andrew: “Please, Andrew, you’re drunk. Maybe I should bring you home.”

This did not land well with Andrew, who frowned in clear dissatisfaction. “Oh, so that’s how it is now?” His words were slightly slurred. “I pay for dinner just so you can ditch me at the earliest opportunity? I keep attracting ungrateful brats.”

Jesus winced slightly at the accusation. He didn’t think he was nearly as bad as Andrew’s ex, but he had to admit that it was a bit of a dick move. So, fuelled by guilt, he stammered out an apology.

Andrew took this as his cue to wrap an arm around Jesus’ waist and kiss him again. Jesus let him this time. He tried to ignore the way his skin crawled and instead did his best to relax in it. He barely noticed that Andrew was tugging him outside, until the cool night air enveloped him.

Andrew pushed him against the cold brick wall of the alley. His hands started wandering over Jesus’ waist and hips. Andrew’s alcohol-laced breath brushed warm against Jesus’ cheek. Jesus tried to voice some objections, but they went ignored. Instead, Andrew’s hands slid under his shirt. One of them even breached the waistband of his jeans. Jesus closed his eyes, hoping the wall would just swallow him.

“I don’t think he’s into it, dude,” an unknown voice said. Jesus opened his eyes and turned his head to see another man, at least a head smaller than himself. He looked fairly relaxed, with one hand in the pocket of his jacket and a beer bottle in his other hand, if it weren’t for the steely look in his eyes.

“Stay out of it,” Andrew sneered, refocusing on Jesus. Any sensible person would have taken the warning and left. Not the stranger, it seemed.

“Not until your friend tells me to.”

Jesus wanted to tell him that Andrew wasn’t his friend, but he couldn’t find the words to say that or anything else. Even when both men were looking at him expectedly. All he managed was to shake his head, shrinking further back against the wall.

“Thought so,” the newcomer said, after which he turned to Andrew. “That’s your cue to fuck off.”

Andrew groaned and moved away from Jesus, focusing on the stranger. Now that they were face to face, it became frighteningly clear how big their height difference really was. The stranger didn’t seem at all bothered by it.

“Simon,” Andrew drawled, venom clear in his voice, “always meddling in things that don’t concern you. Or are you looking for someone else to turn into a pathetic alcoholic?”

The stranger, Simon, didn’t get a chance to react, because Andrew lunged at him. Simon ducked aside with an agility that suggested he was one of the few people around the club who wasn’t drunk. The beer bottle fell to the ground, glass flying away while the scent of beer that had already perfumed the air intensified.

Simon grabbed Andrew’s arm, twisting it behind his back and pushing him against the wall. “I think it’s time for you to go home.” Andrew’s breath was against Jesus’ skin again. He moved away from it and the wall, watching as Simon twisted Andrew’s arm a bit further. Jesus’ arm hurt by simply looking at it. Then, Simon let go, pushing Andrew away from the wall and away from Jesus.

For a second, it looked as though Andrew would just walk away. Then he turned around, lounging at Simon again. Jesus flinched, but Simon appeared to have expected the attack, because with remarkable ease he threw Andrew with his back against the wall. With a shock, Jesus realised Simon had the blade of a Swiss army knife pressed against Andrew’s inner thigh. Judging by the widening of his eyes, Andrew had noticed this too.

“I don’t think you want to know what artery runs right under the tip of my knife,” Simon hissed. “Either you go home or I’ll make sure you’ll go to the ER.” Jesus wondered if maybe he should be leaving. Even though Simon had saved him from a very uncomfortable situation, he was starting to doubt if Simon was much better than Andrew. Especially since Simon didn’t have the excuse of being drunk.

“Fine,” grumbled Andrew, struggling in Simon’s grip.

“Don’t try my patience, I don’t have a lot of it,” Simon warned. “If I ever even see you again or hear that you’ve harassed someone again, I won’t warn before hitting an artery.” He let go of Andrew, who shot a glare at the both of them before walking away.

Simon turned to Jesus, slipping the knife back into his pocket. “Are you alright?” His voice was surprisingly gentle. If Jesus hadn’t just seen it, he wouldn’t believe this same man had just held a knife to someone’s artery.

Jesus quickly nodded. “Yeah.” He brushed off his shirt, even though there was nothing on it. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Dealing with pissed drunks is my speciality.” Simon grinned. “You’re Jesus, aren’t you?”

Jesus looked up at him in surprise. “Er… yes?”

“I’m not a stalker, don’t worry,” Simon assured him with a soft chuckle. “I’ve gone to your speeches a couple of times. Would do it more often, but well, need to be a stalker for that.” Jesus chuckled despite himself. He didn’t really recognise the man, but then again, his speeches had started attracting large crowds. Too large for Jesus to take proper notice of everyone in there, even if he still tried to talk to as many of them as possible. It was still a strange experience to be recognised like this.

“I don’t think I’ve met you yet,” Jesus offered, feeling a little ashamed of the fact, seeing that Simon apparently had attended more than once.

“Courtesy of my friend,” Simon said. He didn’t seem offended by the fact at all. “He might just murder me if I start another discussion in his vicinity. It would be extremely amusing, since he isn’t the homicidal type, but I fear it would be rather distracting.”

“You disagree that much?” Jesus asked, wondering why Simon would attend if that was the case.

“Not necessarily. It depends on the topic. And the time of day. Possibly also the alignment of the stars.”

Jesus chuckled. “Well, you may tell your friend that discussions are always welcome.”

“Can I have that black on white?” Simon asked, somehow sounding only partially joking. “He isn’t going to believe me and he sure as hell isn’t going to let me just because he said so.” Jesus was really starting to wonder who he got involved with now, though in a very different and more positive way than he did only a couple of minutes prior.

“I’ll tell him myself,” Jesus promised. He couldn’t help a small chuckle at Simon’s grin.

They lapsed into a few seconds of silence. Simon looked at the exit of the alley, through which Andrew had left with a calculating gaze that didn’t quite match his still relaxed stance.

“How did you get close to that piece of shit anyway?” Simon asked. “No offense, but you don’t seem like the type of guy to go to clubs like these. Let alone one to end up making out by the backdoor.”

Jesus felt a blush of shame creep up his cheekbones as he quietly answered: “Tinder.” The answer didn’t appear to satisfy Simon, though his dissatisfaction was clearly not directed at Jesus.

“How do you know him?” Jesus asked, fiercely hoping it wasn’t because Andrew regularly did things like this. Especially because he still hoped that this was merely due to too much alcohol. He could easily forgive that.

“His ex and I are… friends of sorts,” Simon answered slowly. Clearly, ‘friends’ wasn’t the appropriate term, but Jesus decided not to press that. There was something far more important he wanted to know.

“Andrew mentioned his ex. Is he really… well, that horrible?” Jesus didn’t want to insult someone he didn’t know, especially not if that someone was a friend of Simon’s, but ‘horrible’ truly was the mildest term he could think of. ‘Manipulative and ungrateful bastard’ seemed more accurate, but he was afraid Simon might not take too well to that and Jesus hadn’t quite forgotten about the knife yet.

Simon snorted, but there was venom in his voice when he said: “If you call ‘getting beaten to a pulp regularly and being too kind and scared to leave for three years’ horrible then yeah, he’s absolutely horrible.”

Jesus winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Andrew’s a manipulative asshole. It was to be expected that he would turn things around to suit him best.” Simon shrugged. He seemed intend to drop the subject there, as he said: “Can you get home safely?”

“Yeah.” Jesus nodded. In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure he felt safe going home alone, but he refused to let Andrew get to him like that. Besides, he didn’t want to bother Simon, who undoubtedly hadn’t gone to the club to walk people home.

“I’ll see you around then.” Simon clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get a tinder account removed.”

Jesus nodded, not wanting to know how Simon intended to do that. He walked out of the alley as Simon grabbed his cell phone and called someone. Jesus could hear scraps of the conversation as he walked away and definitely didn’t want to know how a blowjob would get a tinder account removed.


End file.
